Heart Of Affection
by Rose Sophia Black
Summary: Lorcan was a lone warrior for hundreds of years, even after the war was won and he was free of Maeve, but can the love of a child melt his frozen heart? Whatever the answer, Cahira Westfall is ready to try. Also includes Aelin and Rowan, Dorian and Manon, Chaol and Nesryn.
1. Two years old

2 years old

Lorcan was riding behind the royal party consisting of Queen Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, King Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius and their five year old son, prince Amaron Galathynius. General Aedion Ashryver, a demi fae in the queen's court and also her cousin, rode beside Lorcan, he suspected the the queen had placed him there to keep an eye on Lorcan, even after all these years of him dropping by, helping with battles here and there, Aelin still held a grudge. She remembered all too well how Lorcan had worked for Maeve.

They reached the city where the royal palace of the king of Adarlan resided and people cleared the way for they, bowing in front of the royals of Terrasen. Aelin and Rowan kept their eyes forwards but the little prince did wave a few times with a smile on his face.

The doors to the palace gardens stood open and they rode in. 10 guards were standing at various doors, two of them holding open the big double doors to the palace. The Captain Of the Royal Guard, Nesryn Westfall, greeted them with a salute as she motioned for a stable hand to take the horses after Rowan and Aelin had dismounted, also lifting Amaron to the ground.

"Your majesty," Nesryn addressed Aelin. She might have been friends with the Queen but rules didn't allow her to address her any other way in front of others, "I trust you didn't have trouble on your way here."

"Nothing we couldn't handle," Aelin smirked. After being part of politics for so long, she enjoyed the occasional fight.

Suddenly, a mass of raven hair slammed into Lorcan's feet. The fae warrior almost jumped out of his skin; it didn't help that, when he looked down, he was meet with a pair of golden eyes.

"Caught you," The little being yelled delightedly, still holding on to Lorcan's knees.

"Cahira," Nesryn scolded as she picked up the little girl, much to the later's dismay.

"I apologise for my daughter seems to have struck one of your court speechless," Nesryn said to Aelin as Lorcan glowered at her.

"Already?" Came an amused voice from the entrance. Dorian had arrived with Chaol by his side.

"Cahira already found a way to cause mayhem?" Dorian extended the question.

"I take it you're not surprised?" Aelin asked the king as she gave him a quick hug as a greeting.

"We've gotten used to the Mini Captain Of the Guard abusing her position." Dorian answered as he looked at Chaol's daughter who stared back with none of the fear or praise his subjects looked at the king of Adarlan. He liked having a child around the castle to lighten the atmosphere.

"Mini Captain?" Aelin smirked, "I'm betting she has control over your senior Captain and your right hand."

"Nice to see you haven't changed," Chaol commented dryly.

"I can see who Cahira learns from," Nesryn sided with Aelin. One to the Queen, Zero to that perfect husband of hers, Nesryn thought.

* * *

Aelin and Dorian sat silently besides Amaron's bed where the little boy was sleeping. The room was dark except for the little light seeping in from Aelin and Rowan's room which was connected to the child's by a door, much like the quarters Nesryn, Chaol and Cahira shared.

"This was easy." Dorian commented on the fact of how fast Amaron had gone to sleep, "Usually we can hear Cahira's cries to the other end of the castle when Chaol tries to put her to bed."

Aelin laughed, "So that's why he was adamant Nesryn do it. What about you?"

"I'm the king."

"Have you tucked Cahira in, read her bedtime stories?" Aelin continued the teasing. "Oh great king of Adarlan."

"I had Manon scare her into working with me." Dorian admitted to his secret tactic, though it wasn't entirely true, Cahira seemed truly fearless, even Manon couldn't scare her without actually hurting her, and that was something she didn't plan on doing.

"Speaking of her," Aelin's demeanor lost some of the relaxedness, "Has she been visiting recently?"

"Not for about a year," Dorian looked down, "I suppose she's busy. Running an army of witches can't be easy." Aelin's fish hit the sheets and Dorian looked up, startled.

"You deserve better than her, Dorian. Someone who actually cares enough to clear her schedule. You can't spend your whole life waiting." Aelin snarled.

"I'm not waiting for her. She was just there when I needed her, I don't expect her to come back." Dorian shot back quietly as not to wake Amaron.

"It's your life to ruin," Aelin said with a disapproving tone, got up and entered her and Rowan's room.

Dorian remained seated in the dark room for a while, listening to the even breaths of Amaron. Manon Blackbeak, the Crochan queen, had once been Dorian's lover. She had been wild and, at the time, Dorian had needed someone to take his mind off the slaughter of his father, the quilt he still felt over Sorcha and the stress of running a kingdom. He didn't however think that there would come anything of it, but, even after the war was over, every few months, Manon would stop by.

* * *

Flashback:

 _He was sitting behind his desk, thinking fiercely about all the suggestions and pleas from the townspeople from when he had taken the time to listen to as many of them as he physically could. Dorian rubbed his temples. It was well past midnight and he had no idea how he could create more working positions without raising taxes to build more factories._

 _The doors to his balcony, which had been locked, were thrust open and the Crochan Queen strode in, lazily picking at her iron nails, her platinum hair dancing in the wind blowing in from the open door behind her._

 _"Hello, princeling," Manon Blackbeak said as she propped herself on Dorian's table, on top of all the idea he had written down in the last few hours. "Or is it your majesty now?" She acted as if dropping by in the middle of the night was the translation of normal._

 _"Dorian is fine, witchling. Now, can you get off the table?"_

 _Manon smiled, her iron teeth visible and gleaming in the candlelight, "This is not how one speaks to a queen. I should punish you but you seem to be doing a good enough job of that even without me here? Since when is it a King's duty to fill out forms?"_

 _Dorian pushed his chair away from the table, standing up in the process. Without waiting for a reply, Manon leaned over the desk and placed her lips on his with animalistic hunger. There was nothing gentle in the witch's touch, rather a wild kind of want that pushed Dorian to pull Manon to him._

 _In the morning, Dorian woke up in the bed alone. The room was empty, no sign that proved Manon had ever been there except a slight tear in the fabric of the blanket where it had been caught on Manon's iron nails._


	2. Three years old

3 years old

"And what are we not going to do?" Nesryn asked her daughter sternly.

Cahira sighed, "We won't eat with our hands?" She tried.

"That too," Nesryn nodded, "But what else?" She asked with raised eyebrows.

"Try not to get Daddy's important papers all wet?" Cahira asked innocently.

"I'm sure he would appreciate that. But we're not going to go down and give the Prince of Terrasen a black eye? Got it?"

"But Mommy," Cahira tried to protest but her mother cut her off, "No buts. Can't you two just make up already? How long are you going to hold a grudge?"

"Until Amaron says he's sorry," Cahira answered stubbornly.

"Sweety," Nesryn said, taking her daughter's hands, "hate to break it to you, but that ain't happening."

"Then I'm not going to dinner," Cahira declared, her pride would be her downfall some day, Nesryn thought.

"You'll go hungry," Nesryn warned but when Cahira had made up her mind, it was almost impossible to change it.

"I won't," Cahira called back to her mother as she stalked out of the room, almost running into her father who was just entering.

Chaol looked after his little girl, "I take it she hasn't forgiven him," He asked his wife, putting his arms around her.

"No," Nesryn sighed, resting her forehead on Chaol's shoulder, "I blame you for her stubbornness, by the way."

"She wouldn't be Cahira if she wasn't stubborn," Chaol said, releasing Nesryn, "Dinner's starting soon and you know Aelin won't wait for anyone once food is placed in front of her."

"By the way, what did Amaron do to piss Cahira off so badly?" Chaol asked as he held the door open for Nesryn.

"No idea," The later admitted.

* * *

Lorcan could stand Rowan, he could almost stand the hot headed queen, what had finally gotten to him was the never ending chatter Aedion provided. He'd talked all the way to Adarlan and Lorcan had wanted to strangle the young demi fae. And now, people expected Lorcan to put up with the queen's cousin all throughout dinner too? That wasn't happening.

Lorcan had fled to the furthest corner of the royal gardens as soon as they'd gotten to the castle. He now sat on a fallen tree, sharpening his knives. Even though he often travelled with the Terrasen court, he wasn't part of it. After breaking free of Maeve's blood oath, he'd become almost an assassin for the Queen of Terrasen. She'd find him battles to fight and he'd win them. It was a beneficial relationship for the both of them. Lorcan couldn't imagine living a sheltered life, he was a warrior.

Lorcan smelled the human approaching even before she stepped on a twig. It snapped with a crunch that would have given her position away to the enemy in a heartbeat. He didn't bother turning around.

Cahira Westfall slid onto the tree next to Lorcan. She rested her elbows on her knees and her lips formed a pout as she stared forward. Despite common sense, Lorcan couldn't keep from peering at the girl from the corner of his eye. The year before, when they had visited this castle, she had been as chatty as Aedion. Plus, the captain's daughter had always come to Lorcan, out of everybody she could have chosen. It had made Lorcan uncomfortable, the child looked so small, like she would shatter at the slightest touch. Now, she was sit quietly but, for some insane reason, it annoyed Lorcan even more.

"What are you doing here?" He spat to her in a way that would make most children, and adults, run away.

Cahira didn't even flinch at his tone, "I'm not allowed to beat up Amaron." She sighed.

Of course, what else would she be sad about, Lorcan though, "You'd lose," was what he said, blunt as ever. Cahira's head whipped up, "No, I wouldn't."

"Can you even punch?"

"Of course," Cahira balled her fist and drove it into Lorcan's side. There was a pause and then, 'oww'. Lorcan had barely felt her little fist but Cahira's fingers ached from the impact.

Typical of everyone not to teach her even how to defend herself, "Make a fist again," Lorcan demanded. Cahira obeyed.

"Your thumb shouldn't be inside the fist. You'll break it that way," Lorcan commented.

Cahira, wide eyed and excited to learn fighting, something her parents had deemed her too young for, moved her thumb.

"Don't keep it on the side either. Wrap it across the bottom," Lorcan impatiently said when Cahira had placed her thumb on her index finger. She corrected herself once more.

"You want to aim for the ribs," Lorcan went on when he was content with Cahira's fist. Her eyes went sideways, not meeting his.

"Don't tell me you don't know where ribs are?" Lorcan demanded. Had they taught this girl nothing? She was clearly more than happy to learn. Cahira dug the ground with the tip of her shoe, keeping her eyes low.

"They're here," faster than Cahira could follow, Lorcan grabbed her hand and brought it hard against his ribs so she'd feel the bone under all the released her hand after a fraction of the second, afraid he'd broken her fingers in his firm grip. Inspecting the girl's empression for signs of pain, Lorcan almost didn't notice her curl up her left hand and bring it down against his ribs. The punch was a few centimeters away from his ribs and so soft it must have hurt her more than him but it was a big improvement from a few minutes ago.

* * *

They had just finished dessert (by which point Cahira had made an appearance at dinner) and nobody (except Lorcan who was sitting on the window seal in his animal form: a raven.) noticed Cahira carefully place her thumb on the bottom on her fist. _You wouldn't_ , Lorcan thought, seconds before Cahira threw the punch at Amaron. She'd aimed at his ribs but hit him in the stomach. In this case, it didn't make much of a difference. The punch hurt.

"Cahira," Chaol exclaimed, surprised as was everybody else.

Amaron was clutching his stomach, tears forming in the six year old's eyes. "What was that for?" Lorcan suspected Amaron had over exaggerated. Her little fist couldn't hurt too badly.

"For saying I was like a princess." Dorian, Chaol, Nesryn, Aelin and Rowan heard for the first time, what exactly it had been that the children were fighting over.

"Cahira," Nesryn said, eerily quiet, the calm before a storm. "You punched him because he called you a princess?"

"Yes," Cahira exclaimed, not understanding everyone's surprise.

"Amaron," Aelin asked her son, "did you mean it as a compliment?"

"How else could you take it?" The boy asked back, irritated.

"It was a compliment? Really?" Cahira was genuinely surprised. "But princesses are prissy and have to wear gowns and don't fight. I don't want to be like that."

"She's crazy," Amaron mumbled, "Absolutely mental. What girl doesn't want to be a princess?"

"The one standing next to you. And I'd be careful if I were you," Cahira said.

"That is quite enough," Nesryn said to her daughter. "I told you not to fight him."

"No, mummy, you said not to give him a black eye. I didn't,"

Lorcan didn't see Cahira for the remainder of the stay at the castle. She was grounded to her living chambers and going stir crazy. Nesryn only ungrounded her long enough to apologise to Amaron before the prince and his parents left for Terrasen.

Cahira, not impressed with the prospect of apologizing, stood stiffly next to her father, she was not happy with her mother at the moment.

"Go on now," Chaol said when Cahira showed no sign of talking any time soon.

She, rolling her eyes, stepped forward and, with a low curtsey, said, "I'm sorry for hitting you in the stomach, Amaron,"

"Good girl, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Chaol said to her.

"I'll try to aim for ribs next time," Cahira continued with a mischievous glance at Lorcan that nobody took notice off except Lorcan himself.

 _Wicked little human_ , he thought and saw Cahira's smile widen, if just a millimeter, as if she could hear him.


	3. Four years old

4 years old

It had been snowing so hard in Adarlan this winter that the Terrasen royals didn't think it would be worth the week long trip in the cold to come and visit so they had postponed their stay in the castle. It had become somewhat of a tradition for Aelin, Rowan and Amaron to visit so, understandably, Cahira was not happy with their decision. She had already picked out presents for the Terrasen court members when she'd visited the market place with her father. Cahira had also gotten separated from Chaol on purpose to buy his gift too. But since she hadn't let her father in on the plan, Chaol had spent a good thirty minutes looking for her in panic.

It was late so Chaol was tucking Cahira into bed, or rather, trying to tuck her into bed since he wasn't having much success. Later, he'd ask Dorian, why he'd sent Nesryn out so late when he knew what bedtime was like with Cahira. The little girl sat stick straight in bed, keeping her eyes as wide open as physically possible.

"Daddy, why does it get dark at night?" Cahira inquired so she would not be asked to go to sleep.

"So it's easier for you to fall asleep." Chaol was being creative.

"Can you read me a story?"

Chaol sighed, "I already read two,"

"What about a third one?"

"No, Cahira, it's time for sleep." Chaol didn't relent.

"But I'm not tired yet," It was the argument she used every night.

"But I am,"

"Then go to sleep, Daddy. Want me to read you a story?" Cahira asked politely.

"No, thanks,"

"Why is..." Cahira started again but Chaol cut in, "No more, please, please, go to sleep."

"But I'm not tired,"

"Just pretend you're asleep and sleep will come," Chaol pushed her into a lying position. "Close your eyes." Cahira frowned but did as she was told. Chaol quietly extinguished the candle burning on Cahira's night stand.

"Now what?" The little girl asked.

"Now you will lay quietly,"

"That's boring," Cahira said but her voice didn't sound as energetic anymore. Usually, as soon as her not-tired head hit the pillow, she started to drift off. Chaol was already counting his blessings for getting her to this point.

"Daddy," She mumbled again.

"Yes,"

"I don't like this game,"

Chaol laughed quietly. He pulled the blanket up to her chin so she wouldn't get cold and kissed Cahira on the forehead. "Goodnight," It was only a matter of minutes before Cahira was asleep. Today hadn't been nearly as bad as some other nights Chaol remembered, like the time she'd stayed up well past midnight, refusing to get into bed, or the time she'd hid from them for hours. Every guard in the castle had been mobilized to look until they found her.

The door opened quietly and Chaol looked around. Dorian was standing in the doorway. Chaol got up and followed the king into the hallway. They walked through the torch illuminated castle, their steps on the stone floor the only sound they heard. "Aelin's messenger will be staying for a couple days. Apparently, he got sick on the way here, with the cold and everything." Dorian pointed out to Chaol as they passed the doors to the infirmary.

"Is it serious?"

"The healer said it was just a cold."

Chaol snorted, "Aelin picked a strange man to deliver her message. She usually goes for the tougher ones." The last messenger Aelin had sent had been a Fae she'd freed from Maeve's service who now served as a fast and flawless messenger for Aelin.

"Is Nesryn back yet with her guards?" Dorian asked.

"No, they went to see why the central well wasn't working. My guess is, the water's frozen. Other wells probably have the same problem and Nesryn's probably defrosting those too." Chaol explained.

Dorian nodded, "We could use Aelin's fire power right now. Haven't had a winter this cold in years."

"It'll pass."

"Yes, but the people can't live without water. Make sure there's a patrol every morning going around town checking there's at least one working well per every seven blocks."

"We'll send the guards' pupils. They should be able to handle this on their own." Chaol suggested and Dorian nodded his approval.

"I'll go tell them now,"

"It's the middle of the night," Dorian pointed out.

"They should learn to be ready for surprises at any time." And Chaol parted from the king, certain the pupils would complain about being woken up loudly enough that Nesryn would heard about it in the morning. Knowing her, she'd probably start doing midnight drills with them more often to make sure they wouldn't complain if they were really needed in the middle of the night.

* * *

Lorcan cursed the snow storm above Adarlan that had made his flight from Wendlyn to Terrasen impossible. He'd went to Wendlyn to remind a land owning lord not to think more of himself than he was(exactly the words Aelin had used before shed sent him on his way) but as he was flying over Adarlan as a raven, the storm had threathened to rip his wings apart.

Lorcan was just flying low, past the stone castle, battling the fierce wind, when he got the scent into his nose. It was the scent of magic but definitely not of the king's ice magic. Lorcan tried to place the smell, who had smelled like that?

* * *

Cahira was woken by somebody picking her up. "Daddy?" Cahira asked as they exited her room and hurried down the hall. "What's going on?" She rubbed sleep from her eyes. "Daddy?" She said again, questioningly.

"Shut it," Her dad's voice said from the darkness, or rather, growled.

Cahira's brow furrowed, "Why?" She was answered with silence again but the grip around her tightened. Cahira winced, "I can walk on my own, you know," She wanted to jump down from his arms but they were like iron around her. "Be quiet and be still," He hissed to her. Cahira, for maybe the first time ever, felt fear. Was he mad at her for something? But her daddy was never mad at her, right?

"I-" Cahira started to say but a hand clamed down hard on her mouth. She didn't appreciate being man handeled so Cahira started to wiggle her arms and legs as much as she could, trying to get away from his strong arms. Suddenly, Cahira found the hand wasn't on her mouth anymore, instead, it was holding a dagger to her neck. "Move, even talk, and you die,"

Feeling tears in her eyes and the sharp blade at her neck, Cahira quieted down. She couldn't comprehend why her daddy was acting like this. Her fear grew as they exited the castle and were now walking through a snowstorm. Cahira was in her nightgown(the closest thing to a dress she could stand) and barefoot, with her hair flying wildly around her in the wind. Suddenly, he stopped. Cahira tried to see through her curtain of hair which was no easy task with someone pinning down her arms.

"Shapeshifter," Lorcan growled as he stared down the shifter who had taken on the skin of Chaol Weastfall. This made Lorcan's job a lot easier. Had he transformed into a fae, a witch or some other manner of beast, he would have seen Lorcan strike, but, with Chaol's skin covering him, Lorcan was sure the shifter hadn't even seen him draw his blade before it found its mark in his body.

Cahira, who the shifter had been carrying, screamed as blood spattered on her face from the shifter's wound but Lorcan could care less. He pulled back his sword, now covered in scarlet, and let the man fall to his knees. Cahira fell from his arms and hit the ground hard. She scrambled away from him, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Blood spattered from the shifter's mouth as he couched, "She'll kill you too, Fae. She'll kill everyone," He managed to get out, "She'll rule this land," But Lorcan was enjoying the kill too much to spare much thought to what he was saying. So long, it had been so long since he'd killed. Lorcan raised his sword again even though the shifter was clearly already badly wounded, and cut his head off with one blow. Only as the shifter's body crumbled to the ground, its head rolling a few feet away, did Lorcan manage to get the bloodlust out of his head long enough to hear screaming. Cahira was screaming with fear as her eyes darted from the shifter's headless body to Lorcan.


	4. Five years old

A council meeting was drawing to a close and Chaol stood next to where Dorian was sitting at the end of the table. "A year and we still have no idea who 'she' is," Chaol mumbled with dismay. The meeting had been a waste of time. Nobody had any valuable information that they didn't already know. It had been confirmed by Aelin herself when she'd arrived just on time on Christmas Eve that she had not sent a messenger It was also a likely guess that the shapeshifter had taken the skin of somebody sickly so he had an excuse to stay in the castle for the night. Then he'd taken Chaol's skin (the dead body now rotting in the ground had been recognizable as the Kings' Right Hand), went into Cahira's chambers and tried to kidnap her. The girl had confirmed all of that, all though it had been agreed on that she didn't need to know any details. She was shaken as it was.

The shapeshifter, or whoever he had been working for, had also blown up the wells so Nesryn would be out of the castle and then made sure there was a disturbance in the guards' living quarters so upon arriving there, Chaol would have to straighten things out. That, the shappeshifter had thought, along with killing the guards posted by the back doors he used, would buy him enough time to get out of the castle with Cahira. But he hadn't expected an interference, curtesy of Lorcan.

"We'll keep looking, Chaol, don't worry. Nobody will get to Cahira again," Dorian reassured, praying to god he could keep that promise.

"Once was enough," And Dorian knew Chaol was right.

* * *

That night when Dorian walked into his room, he found the Crochen queen sitting on one of the big armchairs in front of the fire. Only Manon could make an old armchair look like her throne, Dorian thought as he closed the door behind him. He wondered if he remembered a time when Manon had used the front doors but came up empty. The queen always had prrefered the cover of darkess and the element of surprise.

"I was visiting a land on the other side of the ocean so your messenger waited in my Keep." Manon said as if four years hadn't passed from their last meeting. To an immortal being, four years could have seemed like a blink of an eye. "You chose him well. Most mortals wouldn't last six months in a witches' lair." She continued as he sat down across from her.

"We've been careful with our messengers lately. I trust he isn't harmed?"

Manon shrugged, "The witches tried." Was all she said.

Dorian leaned forward, "You wouldn't be here if you didn't have an answer to my question."

"I don't travel for anybody," Manon sneered, "Just happened to be flying overhead." She paused, "But I might know something too."

Dorian realized how anxious he must have looked when Manon released a laugh that contained more iron teeth than humour, "I see you care for the Westfall girl,"

"Of course, she's family,"

Manon's eyes turned icy as she looked at Dorian, "That's why she was taken. An easy pray and valuable to the king of Adarlan."

Dorian's breath caught. He hadn't thought of it like that but now that Manon had pointed it out, it seemed logical. He himself didn't have kids or a wife, it would have been harder to take Chaol or Nesryn, if someone wanted to bargain, Cahira would have been the obvious choice.

"So who do you think he was working for?" Dorian asked Manon when he'd recovered a bit from the realization that what had happened was all because of him.

Manon got up and threw the balcony doors open with a bang. She stood with her face towards the moon, snow catching on her silver hair. "If I knew, they would already be dead." With those words, she jumped on her wyvern and took off, leaving Dorian to look after her until the silouhete of Manon Blackbeak could no longer be seen against the dark sky.

* * *

Chaol watched as Cahira practiced the kick she had been learning on a dummy. She had begged for so long to learn how to fight and Chaol hadn't had the heart to say no, especially now, when Chaol couldn't assure the child enough that nobody could get into the castle to hurt her. She'd just reminded him that somebody already had broken in. It always stung.

Chaol had thought what would be the safest yet effective thing to start her out with and had decided a kick aimed at the opponent's knee would be relatively simple."You're not using enough force," Chaol called to Cahira as she hit the dummy again. The girl blew a strang of loose hair from her face as she looked at her father. "I am," She protested.

"No, you're not. Come here and try it on me." Chaol said, trying to prove a point. Cahira, excited to have a real person as an opponent, came running over.

"Remember what I told you, hit the sides not the fro-" Chaol tried to remind her but Cahira hadn't stopped to think or listen and kicked before she had even fully stopped. This gave the kick a lot more strenght that when she'd done it standing still.

"That," Chaol said as he tried to move his foot, making sure Cahira hadn't dislocated anything, "was not the side."

Cahira didn't seem as happy with her kick as Chaol would have expected."You didn't fall," She said solemly, Chaol briefly wondered if he'd told her that a kick from the front wasn't meant to take down but to injure.

Chaol knelt down beside her, "You can't expect to take down peole twice your size after one lesson." Though it had hurt more than she realized.

"Then what am I going to do when people try to hurt me, or you or mommy," Cahira asked the question that had been burning in her for months now.

Chaol noticed her blinking a lot, trying to keep tears from falling, "We'll protect you. Mommy and I will always be there for you." He tried to calm his daughter.

"You weren't there last time," This simple sentence, a fact really, made even Chaol want to tear up. They hadn't been there, Cahira could have been hurt and he wasn't there.

Chaol scooped Cahira into his arms and, as she burried her face into his shoulder, he could feel her tears through the fabric of his shirt, "I'm sorry, Cahira. I'm sorry,"


	5. Six years old

Lorcan was flying over Adarlan. He had declined invitations to visit Adarlan with the Terrasen court for three years now, despite Aedion's constant interrogations about why. He just didn't want to see Cahira again, didn't want to see the fear and disgust on her face. He wasn't ashamed of killing that shifter two years ago, it had felt natural, it had felt good. He just wished he didn't care that the child had seen. Lorcan hated the feeling like he was a let down, hated it so much that he usually killed everyone who dared contradict him. But he couldn't very well kill Cahira Westfall, just like he couldn't kill Elide.

* * *

 _Flashback:_

 _Lorcan had just had the best fight in a while. His opponent, a demi fae gone rogue, had put up a good fight, considering. There was blood on Lorcan's face and clothes as he walked in the house Elide had inherited from her mother in Terrasen. He hadn't bothered to wipe it. Lorcan's eyes shone animalistically, his fangs well visible as he threw a rare smile at Elide who had come into the room. It was in the middle of the night so she was in her nightgown._

 _Elide's hand went to her mouth, "Lorcan," Her voice was deadly calm, her face serious, "you murdered someone?"_

 _"A fight broke out," This was why Lorcan sometimes went to supernatural bars. There was always a fight going on, "I just finished it." He smiled, thinking he'd answered cleverly._ _Elide bolted from the room and threw up in the bathroom. When she emerged again, Lorcan was sitting in their living room, confused by her reaction._

 _There was silence in the room as Elide stared at Lorcan, now wiping blood from his face, "I can't anymore," It was a whisper but Lorcan's fae ears picked it up like she had yelled the words._

 _"What do you mean?" He asked as he got up, trying to put a hand around her but she swatted his blood covered palm away._

 _"I've had enough," She repeated._

 _"Of what?" Lorcan didn't try to touch her again._

 _"of you comin home in the middle of the night, covered in blood. I'm tired of waiting for you, wondering if you will come back alive." Elide yelled the words, her self control cracking, "I have asked you to stop fighting so many times,"_

 _"So you want me to be a house pet?" Lorcan snarled._

 _"I want you to show me you love me by honoring my wishes," A tear rolled down Elide's cheek._ _"And I can't watch you fight. I can't, Lorcan. I'm giving you a choice, me or fighting. You can't have both."_

 _Lorcan's voice was quieter than usual, "Please don't make me choose," He almost pleaded with his fiancee. Elide's face remained stony, "Which is it?"_

 _"Please, Elide,"_

 _"Which is it!" She screamed. Lorcan's silence was answer enough for her. "I see," She closed her eyes for a long moment before opening them again. "I see you've made up your mind," she slided the ring he'd give her off her finger and pressed it into his palm. "Goodbye, Lorcan," And, in her night clothes, Elide stormed out of the house._

 _When Elide returned to her house hours later, it was empty. The only reminder that somebody had ever even been there was the ruby ring on the kitchen table. She grabbed it and thrust it into the fireplace. Realizing what she'd done, Elide dived after the small piece of jewelry, but it was too late._

* * *

Lorcan landed in a middle of a clearing in the forest of Adarlan, deciding to camp out for the night. The sun was already setting and he didn't fancy flying across the mountains in the dark. Being a Fae, he didn't need a fire for warth so Lorcan propped himself against a tree. He was glad he hadn't forgotten the starts while living in the Terrasen court. That luxurious lifestyle Aelin fancied just wasn't for Lorcan. He enjoyed sleeping under the clear sky, the smells of a forest tingling in his nose.

But the three headed goddess just couldn't leave him alone, could she. Lorcan heard footsteps even before he smelled the human approaching. No stealth, as it usually was with humans. The mortal was downwind so Lorcan could barely smell it. Leaves crunched as the human stepped on them. Lorcan thought it must be unaware that he was present for it wasn't even trying to be quiet. His hand went to his sword as Lorcan got up from the ground, standing tall as the bushes were moved to the sides ... and Cahira Westfall stepped through.

She'd grown in the years Lorcan hadn't visited Adarlan. Her raven hair was longer, still stick straight. Her face had lost some of its chubbiness but still shone with a healty glow. Apparently, Cahira still hadn't grown into a princess as Amaron had hoped: her tunic was not in pristine codition and there were a few twigs in her braid.

She blinked as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Or trying to see clearer since, Lorcan remembered, humans couldn't see in the dark.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was threatening but Cahira just stared at him.

"Why aren't you in the castle?" He said again. "Are you asking to get kidnapped now?"

Without an answer, Cahira ran over to Lorcan and wrapped her arms around his torso, the highest she could reach. It was almost like the time when they first met; she'd hugged him then too.

"What are you doing, human?" Lorcan's hands were up so they wouldn't touch the human girl clinging to him.

"Mommy said people who kill others also kill a part of themselves." Cahira's words were muffled, "I'm sorry you had to hurt the bad man."

Lorcan was baffled with the explanation. It was so like the Westfalls to hammer that pacifism into their kid. But the kid wasn't letting go of him. That was a problem, "I'm not sorry. I wanted to kill him." Lorcan was sure this would scare the kid all the way back to the castle.

Cahira looked up at him, "Why?" She was so innocent, too innocent.

"Because I like it," He growled.

"Have you killed many people?" Lorcan nodded.

"Then your soul must be full of holes." Cahira thought for a moment, "You can use a little of my soul to pach the holes up." She said as if this was a revolutionary solution, leaving Lorcan baffled with the child's logic.

"What are you doing in the forest?" Lorcan tried to divert her attention.

"Playing hide and seek. I was hiding and now I am seeking a way home."

"Come on," Lorcan started walking towards the castle at a brisk pace. Cahira jogged to catch up with him and as soon as she did, she slipped her hand into his, making Lorcan walk even faster to dump the child at the castle and be rid of her, for now.

 **A/N Review please. For my little darlin' Cahira:)**


	6. Seven years old

Amaron slammed Cahira to the ground for the fourth time this training session. And for the fourth time, Cahira got up and demanded a rematch. Her hair had long ago come out of its braid and the knees of her pants had ripped when she had fallen the second time. Amaron had tried to be careful in the beginning, he trully had, but Cahira wasn't holding back and, unlike last year, she had almost gotten the jump on him. This made Amaron very determined not to let Cahira win. He'd never live that down; a fae, being beaten by a human girl who's younger than him.

"Again," Cahira demanded as Amaron slammed her to the ground for the fifth time.

"No more," Amaron protested. Even he was starting to get tired.

"What are you? Afraid?" Cahira teased as she raised her hands into a defensive position. Even without superior hearing he could have heard her heavy breaths.

"No, I just down want to hurt you badly." Amaron's hands stayed at his sides, not taking Cahira's bait.

"Who says you're strong enough to hurt me?" Cahira laughed. Amaron couldn't comprehend how she could be so confident after so many losses.

"I'm a Fae,"

"So?" She raised her eyebrows, "That doesn't automatically make you stronger."

Amaron swiped at Cahira's legs. The girl jumped out of the way but, while she was regaining her balance, Amaron stiked again, this time going for a punch he was sure Cahira could deflect. She did and as soon as her hands had made contact with his, Amaron grabbed her wrists, throwing her to the ground, "Yes, it does,"

He pulled her up, "That's best out of nine," They had started fighting with the intention of doing three rounds and the best fighter would get to ask for whatever they wanted, but Cahira had kept on wanting more rounds.

"So, what do you want?" She asked, exasperated. They both knew that, as crown prince, there was little that he didn't already have.

"A dance,"

"A dance?" Cahira echoed.

"The christmas ball, will you go with me?" Every year, Dorian threw a Ball on the 24th of December, celebrating christmas and showing people the good relations between the courts of Adarlan and Terrasen.

"Well you did beat me." Cahira said, "what a waste of a perfectly good chance to ask for anything"

* * *

"You don't have to look so miserable," Aedion commented as he threw Lorcan a brand new tux meant for parties.

 _"Come now, Cahira. A dress isn't going to kill you," Nesryn tried to convince her daughter as she held the dress up for Cahira to see._

"Why did I have to come?" Lorcan asked for the hundreth time. He wasn't one for parties, or people.

 _"Why do men get to wear a tunix and I have to wear a dress?" Cahira protested as she jumped onto her bed to be face level with her mother._

"Because the Queen of Terrasen ordered you to," Aedion answered merrily.

 _"Because you are a young lady and the companion of the Prince of Terrasen," Nesryn said as she unbuttoned Cahira's shirt._

"Only because you asked her to," Lorcan pointed out. Aedion didn't even bother denying.

 _"I'm only going because Amaron beat me," Cahira said solemly. Honestly, wearing a dress was worse than losing._

"Can't you fake some enthusiasm?" Aedion inquired. He was like a neverending ray of sunshine, Lorcan didn't know how he did it.

 _"Smile now, Cahira. You know, not many girl get to dance with a prince," Cahira gave an ugly sneer as a sarcastic response to her mother's demand._

* * *

There were dozens of couples twirling in time to the music. They were people who owned land in Adarlan or Terrasen. Though not many Terrasen Lords and Ladies bothered with the journey just for a ball. Aelin and Dorian had opened the ball with a waltz but had now retreated from the dance floor. Amaron stood by them at the side of the room. Rowan noticed his son glance at the entrance more than once but he didn't say anything. Cahira was yet to show up.

"You're scaring away all the ladies," Aelin remarked to Lorcan who was standing just behind them. Lorcan only rolled his eyes.

"Your loss," She shrugged as she turned back to the conversation with Dorian and Rowan.

With the attention off him, Lorcan though it the perfect time to escape. He walked to the balcony, it was empty in the dead of winter, and was just about to jump off the edge and transform into a raven when he smelled her scent. It was surprising that he could pinpoint Cahira's scent admidst all of these humans. And that's when Lorcan made a mistake: he looked back, if only for a fraction of a second.

* * *

Amaron smiled and parted from the company of his parents to meet Cahira as she walked through the door. The girl tripped slightly on the hem of her pastel blue dress even before they'd met. A great start, Cahira thought but Amaron hardly seemed to notice. He entended his right hand to her and Cahira took it. Despite what her parents and everyone else might think, Cahira did know the etiquette.

"May I have this dance?" Amaron asked politely.

"You may," Cahira sighed.

Amaron steered them to the dance floor, put his left arm around Cahira's waist and took her left hand with his right. He twirled her and Cahira, surprised herself, managed to stay on her feet. Training had made her more stealthy, more skilled at finding her balance quickly. "Why is the couresan staring at me like she wants to eat me?" Cahira asked mid twirl, pointing out a rather annoyed looking red headed eleven year old from Terrasen court.

Amaron saw who Cahira meant and quickly turned them so his back was to the red head. "That's Mediah. She's been acting like somebody glued her to me. Just ignore her."

Cahira furrowed her brow. "That's mean, Amaron. She likes you."

"She likes my title: the crown prince of Terrasen."Amaron answered spitefully.

"How do you know?"

It's what all the courtesans think."

Amaron lifted Cahira off the ground for a second and she yelped, thankful he only held her up for a few seconds. "They can't all be like that. You must at least like one of the courtesans."

"None of them are fit to be a queen." Amaron assured Cahira. "I have my heart set on someone like y-"

Just as they were twirling past Mediah, Cahira stepped out of Amaron's arms and pulled Mediah into them. Amaron looked at Cahira with surprise only to find a big smirk on her face. She retreated from the dance floor and Amaron had no way of leaving Mediah and going after Cahira without causing a scene. He sighed but didn't miss a beat with his new partner. Mediah's smile seemed to sparkle and Amaron found how different it was from Cahira's usual smirk.

"Your highness," Mediah said in a sweet voice, "what an honor to dance with you."

"Just until this song ends." Amaron had been taught to at last act civilized with the members of his court, even if he didn't particularly like them.

"I doubt the Captain's daughter will find dancing a pleasant past time. From what I hear, she is quite unladylike."

It always amazed Amaron how creative girl could be when they needed to discreetly insult somebody. "If strong has somehow become unladylike then yes, she is."

"She doesn't even realize you like her. You exactly weren't hiding it."

"Mediah, stick to dancing,"

* * *

Cahira found the balcony thankfully empty and the sky clear and starry. She didn't see why Amaron didn't like his courtesans. Mediah was certainly pretty. She was like the porcelan doll Cahira had stashed into her closet. She'd never once played with it but couldn't deny that it looked beautiful. A black bird landed on the balcony's railing. Cahira was surprised by how fearless the bird was, coming this close to a human.

"You're a brave birdy," Cahira entended her hand towards the bird, expecting it to fly away, but it didn't, at least not right away. Her fingers brushed the feathers on its back. They felt softer, silkier, than she had expected. The bird looked at her with tiny black eyes, then extended its wings and flew off into the night. Cahira looked at the black bird's shape against the dark sky until she couldn't see it anymore.

Then she threw off her heeled shoes and stood barefoot in the snow. Cahira was convinced that heels had been invented as torture devices for girl. The air around her was freezing, but Cahira took her time going back in, giving Mediah a chance to dance with Amaron. In her opinion, they looked so pretty together: Mediah with her firey hair and delicate features, Amaron with golden hair and eyes.


End file.
